


Giving back is all I wanna do

by nofeartina



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Honeymoon, Lingerie, M/M, Magic AU, birthday fic, intercrural, stranger's bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 06:06:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15503958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nofeartina/pseuds/nofeartina
Summary: He hates when Isak’s like this.He understands it, knows why it happens, knows that Isak has his own demons to deal with.But he still hates it.He just wants to wrap his arms around him, wants to make him feel warm and protected. Better.OrThe one where Isak is having a bad day and Even does what he can to cheer him up (including using his magic).(birthday fic for wonderful colazitron)





	Giving back is all I wanna do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [colazitron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/colazitron/gifts).



> Listen, this is the last time I’ll try to be sneaky with Cola and casually ask her for smut-prompts for her birthday fic using some lame excuse because this is what she came up with; lingerie, honeymoon, stranger's bed, and intercrural. xD My god. Those four prompts were hard to fit into one fic, but I’ve managed, and I hope you like the result, my friends (and especially you, my dear. <3) (and yes it's a magic au, because it had to be, right? ;))
> 
> Thank you to Immy for the beta and for Maugurt for helping me find a 1D-title. <3
> 
> Happy birthday, Cola! I hope you’re having a perfect day. This is for you, a little birthday gift from a fellow-Leo. ;)

 

Isak’s been uncharacteristically quiet all day. 

No messages, no connection, no nothing.

Even walks a bit faster up the stairs, takes two at the time until he’s standing in front of their door. The lock is already opening before he wraps his hand around the handle and he slows down as he opens it.

It’s dark in the apartment and that makes him quiet.

He takes off his jacket as slowly as he can, whispers  _ Isak _ into the apartment because he knows he’s home. His shoes are standing right where they always do.

He hates when Isak’s like this.

He understands it, knows why it happens, knows that Isak has his own demons to deal with.

But he still hates it.

He just wants to wrap his arms around him, wants to make him feel warm and protected. Better.

So he toes off his shoes and enters their bedroom.

When he listens for it he can hear Isak’s heavy breathing somewhere in the mess that is their bed right now, but he can’t see him. Isak’s buried somewhere under their duvet, so Even sits on the side of the bed gingerly and puts his hand on the pile.

“Isak?” he whispers again, and this time Isak sighs.

“Yeah.”

Isak’s voice is muffled by the duvet, but he’s talking at least, so Even takes that as a sign that he can lie down next to him. But he keeps a bit of distance.

“Your dad?” Even asks.

Isak moves a bit, just enough that a tuft of hair becomes visible over the edge of the duvet.

“No.”

Even moves a bit closer, almost close enough to touch.

“Your mom?”

And Isak doesn’t answer but he doesn’t have to. Because that silence tells Even all he needs to know.

He closes the rest of the distance between them, moves as close to Isak as he possibly can, puts his arm around, him and just lies there and waits for Isak to make the next move.

He doesn’t know how long they stay like that before Isak starts moving again and slowly his head emerges, hair a mess, cheeks flushed from the warmth of the duvet. He’s the most beautiful thing Even has ever seen.

There’s that steady hum inside of him that’s always present when he sees Isak.

“Hi,” he greets him gently, voice low and intimate.

Isak doesn’t say anything back just looks at him with those big green eyes, all that power crackling behind them even through the dullness, and Even hopes he’ll find what he’s looking for in him.

“Will it ever get better?” Isak asks after a long while, and his voice sounds so broken and sad and Even hates it. He wants to take all that pain from Isak and make sure that he never feels anything but happiness ever again.

“Oh, baby.”

He tightens his grip on Isak, pulls him even closer, and his heart swells when Isak rests his head on his chest, seeks out his warmth and his comfort.

“It will. I promise you it will,” he starts saying, can’t help but feel the tingling of his magic in the air around them. “Maybe not from her doing. But there’ll come a time where she won’t take up so much space, you know?

Isak unwraps himself a bit from the duvet, frees his hand and puts it on Even’s chest.

“Show me,” he says, and he only has to ask once.

Even lets his magic expand, lets it flow around them, encase them in the imagery of them in a big house, light streaming through the windows, Isak lying on the couch covered by a blanket and Even sitting next to him holding a book, with his other hand on Isak’s feet.

It makes Isak smile a small soft smile as he gets up on his elbows, looks around to take in their surroundings.

“This is our home when we’re older. When we’re rich and famous,” Even says and stretches out his arms. “We’re the Valtersens and we’re the most married couple in the world.”

Even watches fascinated how Isak’s smile widens a bit more, moves from one side of his mouth to the other, but his eyes are still a bit more dull than normal.

So Even continues, “We have two cats, Vivian and Edward, and Edward is a bit scared of guests so he hides a lot, but Vivian would live on our laps if we’d let her.”

“We’re married?” Isak asks as he looks out the window to the big garden that Even put there. Because he knows that Isak would love that.

“We’re so getting married, you don’t know that?” Even says, hand on his chest in mock-outrage, a teasing smile breaking out over his face.

The scenery changes, their surroundings morphing until they’re surrounded by happy people, all their friends, their family. The people they love. And everybody’s smiling and are looking at them. And Isak looks at Even and laughs, looks down at himself and pulls at the bottom of his suit-jacket and adjusts his tie.

“You look perfect,” Even says, insides melting at the sight of Isak like this, ready to become his husband, laughing and smile already so big that Even knows that he’s succeeded.

Isak smile turns a bit shy, a small flush creeping up on his cheeks and Even loves this man so much, he can barely contain it.

“No tux?” Isak teases, nodding at his suit, and Even shakes his head.

“You didn’t want a tux kind of wedding. You wanted something a bit more casual.”

And Isak laughs again and points at Even. “Is that why you’re wearing a tux?”

Even laughs as he answers, “Well, I did want a tux kind of wedding. So this is the compromise.”

Isak reaches out and takes his hand. Falls a bit quiet. 

“Are they happy with us marrying?” he asks, voice low enough that only Even can hear him.

“Very,” Even answers as he pulls Isak closer, close enough that he can put his arms around him. “Your dad will make an awkward speech and your mom will cry most of the night because she’s so happy. And my grandmother will drink two glasses of wine and become really handsy with you--” Isak snorts at this because that has happened before, “--and it will be the best night of our lives. Just exactly as we want it to be.”

“And after?” 

Even smiles against the skin of Isak’s temple, more than happy to continue. 

“And after, we go on a honeymoon. Somewhere warm and sunny, and there’s a beach because we spend our days walking along it, bathing in the ocean.” He pulls Isak closer as he continues. “And have lots and lots of awesome honeymoon sex.”

“Is that different from normal sex?” Isak asks, voice playful, no traces of sadness left anymore. 

Even is powerless against how big his smile gets now that Isak has really started to play along. 

“Oh yeah, way different. It’s  _ honeymoon sex _ .”

And as Even talks the setting shifts around them, turns into a bedroom with a beautiful bed with a large canopy, doors open to reveal an apparently never-ending balcony, the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore in the background. The lights are soft and golden, like the sun has started to set and the air smells of ocean and flowers. 

Even walks Isak backwards, eyes locked on Isak’s that are finally starting to shine a bit again, and Isak puts his hands on Even’s waist. Follows eagerly where Even pushes him. 

When Isak’s legs bumps into the bed Even doesn’t let him fall over, even though it seems like he thinks that’s where he’s going.

“You, Mr. Valtersen, are way too overdressed for this,” Even purrs and runs his hands down the lapels of Isak’s jacket, from his chest all the way down to the buttons, which he starts unbuttoning one by one. Slowly, making sure that his knuckles graze Isak’s stomach, makes sure that he feels what he’s doing. 

Isak’s breath hitches, his mouth is already slack and Even keeps undressing him, looks him in the eye as he pushes the jacket off his shoulders, as he starts in on the shirt instead. Isak just stands there, lets Even do what he wants to him, but it’s easy to see how affected he is. 

And his eyes, those green bright eyes, just keep following Even’s, like he wants to drown himself in them.

Even opens the shirt but doesn’t take it off any more before he gets started on the pants instead.

It’s a special kind of torture not allowing himself to fit his hand around the bulge he feels there as he pops the button and slides down the zipper, an even more special kind of torture to see Isak’s pupils dilate, hear the small sighs he’s letting out, feel the way Isak’s hands are clenching his waist.

He knows how hard Isak is restraining himself, knows that he must be vibrating with power and magic now.

And maybe it’s that that affects Even the most. Makes his own dick twitch and the hair on his body stand on end.

The knowledge that Isak could easily push him along, that Isak rarely ever gives over control like this. How Isak is so much more powerful than him, his magic good for other things than the images that Even does well. But Isak holds himself back, lets Even decide, trusts Even to make him feel good.

It’s a heady feeling to watch Isak hold himself back for him.

And more than anything it makes Even feel loved.

He pushes the pants down Isak’s legs as soon as they’re open, kneels in front of him, face close enough to that mouthwatering bulge that he notices Isak’s dick twitch as well, but Even pretends that he doesn’t notice, just makes Isak lift one leg, and then the other, ridding him off his pants and socks in the process.

And then he gets back up.

“And the thing about honeymoon sex is that it can be kinkier than normal sex,” Even says, and hopes that he sounds more seductive than playful. He knows he doesn’t succeed when Isak’s mouth stretches into a beautiful smile.

“More kinky than me naked and you dressed?”

And Even nods, and says, “I always did like you in pink.”

Isak looks down at himself, laughs when he notices the pink silky g-string Even has changed his boxer briefs into, showing him off so beautifully.

“Even,” he says, draws it out to let Even know that he’s being ridiculous. And he is because they’re not usually into g-strings, so Even changes it, and  _ that _ makes Isak laugh even harder.

“What’s this?” he asks, but swivels his hips a bit, making the fabric stretch against them and Even licks his lips.

Can’t help it.

“That’s male lingerie, my dear.” Even isn’t really taking his eyes off it as he talks, a bit more interested in how it fits Isak than he expected to be.

The bulge is barely covered in matte pink satin, sheer panels running from the front to the back and Even wants to turn him over and see how the design looks stretched over his ass.

“Even, no,” Isak laughs now, squeezing Even’s sides as if to take the sting off it. “Change it to something else that’s not lingerie.”

Even looks for a few seconds longer than he should, curiously interested in what he’s seeing, but if Isak’s not into it, then it’s not for him either. So he changes it.

The next one has Isak laughing so hard that he doubles over, puts his forehead to Even’s shoulder and Even feels his laugh spread throughout his entire body until he feels it in his toes.

He loves making Isak laugh like that.

“Oh God no,” Isak manages to say between laughs and Even feigns ignorance just to make Isak laugh a bit longer.

“What? I’ve never seen you look better!”

Even has changed the panties into big, baggy boxers, white with red hearts on them and they don’t really fit Isak, but they’re so  _ fitting _ .

“Stop it, it’s not sexy when you’re making me laugh like this.”

And that makes Even pause, makes him pull Isak into his arms to hug him tight.

“I disagree,” he whispers straight into his ear.

It makes Isak choke on his laughter, makes it die in his chest, makes Isak’s grip on him tighten.

And in a breath, they’re both naked, standing close enough that Even doesn’t need to hear the sound Isak makes to know that he feels it too, and he knocks them over onto the bed.

They’ve barely landed on top of the sheets before Even finds Isak’s mouth and he kisses him like he’s been waiting to all day. He pushes Isak up the bed, finds a more comfortable position for them and then just rolls on top of him, makes room for himself between Isak’s legs, like that space is his to occupy. Like it was made for him. Because he just fits there so beautifully.

“Even,” Isak moans against his lips.

Hearing Isak moan like that makes his blood boil and he pushes deeper into the kiss, curls his tongue around Isak’s, sucks and licks and does his best to communicate his desperation.

And he knows it’s working when Isak starts grinding up against him, the tip of his dick already so wet that it slides against the V of his hips. Even grinds back, finds a good rhythm that matches their heavy breathing, the tongues in their mouths, and he loves how that makes Isak’s skin heat up, how it makes sweat break out over his body.

Isak pulls his legs up, curls them around Even until his heels are digging into Even’s thighs, pushing him closer.

Even could come like this, just rubbing against Isak frantically, sliding his body and his dick against Isak’s body, and from the way Isak’s shaking under him it’s easy to tell that he could too.

“Not like this,” Even manages to get out between kisses and he has to pull himself back from the brink, has to pull away a bit and catch his breath and close his eyes. Afraid that he might get pushed past the point of no return if he sees how perfect Isak surely looks lying there under him.

So close to gone himself.

Even pushes up on his knees, pulls at Isak until he gets the idea and turns over on his stomach and Even straddles him. He leans down over Isak, upper body stretched over Isak’s inviting back and he puts his mouth just behind Isak’s ear and kisses him there where he’s most sensitive.

“I’m not going to fuck you,” he whispers, loving how that makes Isak’s mouth slack and his hands fist the sheet.

“No?”

“No. Not now, not here. That’s for our own bed, not some stranger’s.”

And Isak twists his head to be able to look him in the eye.

“So, you’re just going to leave me hanging?”

But his voice is soft and teasing, he knows that Even wouldn’t do that.

“No. I’ve got something else in mind.”

He lifts his hips, settles his dick just behinds Isak’s ass and lets his magic do the work. His dick goes slick and he slides into place between Isak’s strong thighs with a sigh.

“Shit. I love your magic,” Isak moans into the pillow as the head of Even’s dick slides over his perineum, nudges against the back of his balls, and Isak shuffles so he can push his thighs closer together.

The added pressure around his dick is almost enough to make Even lose it, but he clenches his teeth against the urge to give into it, to just ride out his own pleasure, and he somehow manages not to.

He knows how much Isak loves this, loves being covered by Even like this, loves Even finding pleasure in his body, so Even puts his hands on top of Isak’s, entwines their fingers and uses that grip to start thrusting into that tight heat with his entire body.

Isak takes it, lies there, panting, sweating, flushing, gasping, and Even could watch him all day. He knows that each thrust makes Isak’s dick drag against the sheet under them, giving him a little bit of friction but not enough. And he knows that Isak could easily make himself come, just a small thought, a mere intention would probably be enough for his magic to do the work for him, and he fucking loves how Isak doesn’t.

How he manages to control it, even now, even when he could bring himself so much pleasure with it.

So Even does the next best thing. He lets his own magic extend from his body, lets it slide past his fingers, past his dick, down onto Isak. Feels how it slithers over his skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Even’s magic isn’t really made for this, not really, not like Isak’s, but even though it’s weak he knows that Isak still feels it.

Knows that Isak likes how it feels.

Isak isn’t normally one to let his magic roam free when they have sex, too afraid of losing control with it, of what it could do to Even, but Even’s made for settings, for imagery. Not for touches and physical pleasure or pain.

But he can make it do it, and his magic has always responded well to providing pleasure to Isak. He can almost feel it purring with happiness inside his chest, where his tether is.

He lets the magic extend, knows it’s sliding further and further along Isak’s skin, knows it won’t stop until it reaches its destination, and when Isak moans and relaxes his head into the pillow, Even knows that it has.

Isak starts writhing under him, ass clenching, shoulders shaking, and his entire chest is heaving as he mutters  _ fuck, fuck, Even, fuck _ .

It makes Even go faster, makes him thrust hard against Isak, his hips slapping into the clenched muscles of Isak’s ass and it’s so good. His writhing is making the space between his thighs even tighter, he’s even warmer now, and Even gives into it, works his dick into that snug space over and over again, faster and faster, chasing his orgasm, like he knows his magic is helping Isak chase his.

Isak arches his back, makes it easier for Even to rub his dick against the sensitive skin of Isak’s balls, making Isak’s noises reach an even higher pitch. And it’s clear that Isak is close, so close, the way his fingers tighten around Even’s gives it away.

Even feels a deep throb in his dick, in his balls, the idea that it’s Even who’s doing this to Isak, who is giving him all this pleasure, pulling all those sounds from deep inside of him. Even’s balls pull up tight, shivers run down his spine and he’s so close himself, so, so close, just a few more thrusts and he’ll be there.

And then Isak unravels under him, starts convulsing and groaning, every muscle in his body clenched tight as he comes into the sheet and that little bit of added clench is just what Even needs.

Heat explodes in his belly, tingles rush from his balls to his dick and he tightens his grip on Isak, burrows into him deeper, as deep as he can possibly go between his legs, and then he starts shooting. He coats Isak’s balls and perineum in white, rope after rope of cum and every push reverberates through his entire body, makes his skin hot and his blood boil.

Even hangs on for the ride, is lost in how the pleasure washes over his body, fills up every crevice of him, makes everything else blurry and soft around the edges. Everything but Isak, who’s feeling it too, who’s right there with him.

And he loves him.

Everything in his body sings that, breathes that. Nothing has ever felt more true.

His entire body is tight, every muscle working to prolong his orgasm, and he comes and comes, makes Isak drenched with it.

Until he collapses on top of Isak, no strength left in his body, nothing to give. Done.

He just lies there, forehead buried in Isak’s curls, breathes and breathes, tries to remember how his body usually works.

And it’s quiet. Nothing can be heard but their breaths, no waves crashing, no fan in the ceiling. Nothing.

It’s Isak who breaks the silence by saying, “Whoa, that must’ve been a good one, baby.”

So he opens his eyes and reluctantly lifts his head. And the bed is different, and the room is back to the old familiar. They’re home, back in their own bed now.

“Well. It always is with you,” he says, or tries to, but his voice is so rough that he has to clear his throat halfway through.

Isak chuckles under him, says, “You’re so cheesy when you’ve just come.”

And the way Isak laughs makes him clench his thighs yet again around Even’s poor sensitive dick and he hisses as he pulls away.

He slides down Isak’s back to the side, settles there, one leg thrown over Isak’s, and Isak turns his head so they’re able to look at each other.

“Only when I’ve just come?” he asks, eager to continue this familiar banter that they know by heart now.

Isak rolls his eyes and smiles, and still to this day that move makes butterflies explode in Even’s stomach.

“You’re always cheesy,” he corrects himself and moves closer to kiss Even. “But I kinda like that.”

And Even wants to smile but instead he loses himself in the kind of soft kisses only Isak knows to give him when he’s like this. When he feels inside-out from orgasm, from the use of magic. From the closeness of Isak.

When Isak pulls back Even is out of breath all over again and he’s grateful when Isak doesn’t pull too far away. Just far enough that he can look him in the eye.

“So. The Valtersens?” Isak asks and laughs and Even joins him.

“I might not have thought that through completely,” he says, knows that he’s bound to get some sort of reaction out of Isak with it. And sure enough.

“Na-ah. You’ve said it now, you can’t take it back,” Isak laughs and pulls Even close when he wants to lean away to show him how outrageously that statement is.

But Isak doesn’t have to pull too hard, Even comes willingly. Knows that this isn’t really a discussion for now anyway. Even tends to agree with most things after sex, so they’ve learned not to have the important talks then.

He lets Isak kiss his lips, lets him deepen it, even allows himself to be pulled even closer still.

And when they pull apart he says the only thing that’s on his mind. “I don’t really care. As long as it’s with you.”

Isak’s eyes grow soft and tender, even more so than they were in the first place, he smiles in that way that he only rarely does, when he’s truly moved by what Even says.

The next kiss feels like a promise, a promise for more. Their magic nudging against the edges of each other and Even feels like he’s soaring.

Isak doesn’t say it back, but it’s clear that he’s feeling it too. Everything about him screams it, the way he touches Even, the way he kisses him, the way he smiles into the kiss.

He knows that it’s not a promise for now, it’s a promise for later.

And that’s alright, no  _ more _ , that’s perfect. 

Like it always is with Isak.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this, and I hope this is what you wished for babe. :D
> 
> I'm [nofeartina](https://nofeartina.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, and kudos and comments makes me go uhhhhhhhhhh so please don't hesitate to leave one or both. xD


End file.
